


Swayed

by blythechild



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, F/M, Hot Weather, Hotels, Literal Sleeping Together, Male-Female Friendship, Realization, Romantic Friendship, Sleepy Cuddles, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blythechild/pseuds/blythechild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need a push to alter your point of view. Prentiss and Reid share a hammock...</p><p> </p><p>This is a work of fanfiction and as such I do not claim ownership over the characters herein. It was created as a personal amusement and as a vaguely superstitious prayer for rain. It is rated PG-13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swayed

**Author's Note:**

> This story was prompted by dionne_2k who wanted to see this pair in a hammock together with one soothing the other to sleep.

He was _just_ like a child when he didn’t get enough sleep. It would’ve been almost comical if they weren’t sharing a room on this case and the others viewed her as his glorified babysitter as a result.

He’d already grumbled dangerously at Hotch when the man told the team to go back to the hotel for some quick shut-eye before their anticipated all-night vigil at the Ponchatoula PD. And then he’d come 99.999% close to swearing when they returned to their room to discover that the AC had crapped out (she was sure that he’d covered that last 0.001% whilst disemboweling the appliance with tools that mysteriously appeared from his go bag). Even after a shower and her presentation of better-than-average take-out, he was still angrier than a bear (a non-swearing, slightly flummoxed, genius bear who insisted on wearing a button down and khakis in 70% humidity). Now he was muttering about how she was monopolizing the hammock out on the room’s tiny balcony, since it was the only place that caught a hint of a breeze.

Prentiss slapped her cheesy crime novel down and fixed him with a look that made tougher men wilt in the past. She _just_ wanted thirty minutes of tranquility – an hour, tops. Was that too much to ask? 

“Quit bitching already. You aren’t the only one stuck in this situation. You want the hammock so bad? C’mon in – it’s made for two.”

His pissy look evaporated into something closer to fear. Prentiss felt delightfully smug, though she was unsure if it was her tone or her suggestion that snapped him out of his sulk.

“I can’t do that…”

“Why the hell not?”

“W-well, we’d be… I don’t know…”

“Tangled up? On top of one another? Really, Reid. We’ve been friends forever. Your bod smooshed up against mine is something we’ve experienced on the jet, in field vehicles, crowded diners, interrogation suites… I think we can weather a hammock, don’t you? Besides, it’s hotter than hell in the room thanks to the little argument you had with the air conditioning unit, and there’s no other place to sit out here.”

Reid looked to his feet and chewed his cheek. He seemed pissed off, uncomfortably warm, and completely exhausted all at the same time. Maybe the exhausted part softened her a little.

“Go get that article you wanted to read,” she tried again, gently this time. “And get in here. Your body needs the rest even if your brain won’t hear of it.”

“Alright,” he muttered after he stared at his feet for ages. Then he disappeared into the room for so long she thought she’d scared him off for good. He finally reappeared with a psychology abstract in his hand.

What followed was something close to a Three Stooges routine as Reid attempted to get into the hammock without dumping them both onto the balcony floor. It seemed as though he was even less coordinated when he was tired; the flurry of limbs and swinging balance of the hammock nearly had Prentiss revoking her invite in the strongest possible language. Finally, he settled, head next to her shoulder and legs hilariously outstretching hers at the far end of the swing. She couldn’t reach down for her Kathy Reichs book without tipping them, so she gave him a few minutes to squirm and shift beside her before she acted. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, she started manhandling him.

“What?! Prentiss!”

“Relax, Praying Mantis, stop flailing. You’ve never hung out in one of these before, have you?”

“Not with someone else.”

She shifted him to his side, facing her, and then she yanked his arm until he half rolled onto her chest. She felt his muscles tense but he said nothing. He just did his best impression of a load of bricks.

“It doesn’t really work if you’re side-by-side. It’s sorta like a sack – things fall together. Hook your far leg over mine so it won’t cramp up.”

He did as he was told and then found he had no choice but to drape his hand, holding his article, across her torso as well.

“See?” she breezed. “That’s better. All snoodled up.”

Reid made a disdainful noise deep in his throat. “You wouldn’t ‘snoodle’ with Morgan. Or Hotch.”

“Are you kidding? Morgan would be all up in this business – you know he would. But Hotch might have to be sedated first.”

Reid chuckled against her and seemed to relax enough to lift up his article, as if he’d resigned himself to his compromised state. The hammock rocked from their shuffling, and as it slowed, Prentiss looped one leg over the edge so that her foot anchored them to the balcony. She pushed lightly, to even out their rhythm and as the breeze drifted the sounds from the street over them, she felt him loosen even more. She found that she enjoyed the weight of him against her and the way their bodies settled together to balance out their shapes and the subtle shifts from the rocking. She almost felt comfortable enough to sleep… The paper in his hand drooped once, twice, and then he tried to rouse himself. One of her hands found its way into his hair at his temple, soothing away his struggles with gentle pulls.

“Quiet now.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” It came out all mumbly, as if he didn’t have the energy to fix it even if she complained.

“Nope.”

“Huh.” He yawned hugely before continuing. “ ‘M all boney. Been told that…”

“Shush. Yer fine.”

“No, _you’re_ fine. That’s what Morgan would say, anyway…”

She suppressed a surprised giggle. “Would he? What would you say?”

“I’d enthusiastically support his conclusion. You putting up with my mood, watching me break the room’s AC, offering to become a de facto mattress…” The article drooped against her chest again but he didn’t pick it back up, laying his fingers along her side instead. “Gentling me down. Maybe I oughta be upset at being treated like a tired child…”

“Nonsense. Everyone needs gentling sometime.” 

She strained to look down at him. His eyes were closed, just still and calm against her. She continued swaying them and contented herself with watching the sky’s colors eventually change from dusk into twilight. The streetlights came on and the traffic sounds changed from the rush hour drone to an evening hiss. They’d have to get back to the PD soon, and back to the horrific chase. But somewhere in the trees beyond the hotel, a red-winged blackbird began to sing. She found herself lulled back into memories of her grandmother’s house when she was young and its long, cool hallways. She remembered running through them, playing with a local boy on those summer days when it was too hot to be outside. They’d pretend it was a wizard’s castle, or a foreboding forest, or a treacherous labyrinth. She could imagine Reid enjoying all of those adventures if he had been there with her seven year old self. It was a strange thought. Drifting into the nostalgia of her memories, swinging the hammock on autopilot, she startled a little when he spoke again.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered against her chest.

She blinked to stir herself and realized that her hand had stopped moving in his hair. It just lay there, tangled up, cradling the base of his head. She circled her fingertips lazily and he sighed, pushing his head a little more firmly against her.

“ ‘S nice.” His leg curled around hers in earnest, ridiculously dwarfing it.

“Thought you were asleep,” she murmured.

“I am. Dreaming ‘bout you rocking me in a hammock. Crazy dream.”

She laughed quietly, shifting them both in a different rhythm, and then searched again for the song of the blackbird trying to find that cool sense of calm on a hot night. Her foot continued to push them, and though she knew it was silly, she thought they’d be able to remain in this hazy moment between dreaming and waking so long as she could keep it up. That was all she really wanted in that instant: to stay in that bubble of peace, with him. Her brain told her that was a strange notion but her foot just kept rocking, rocking, rocking… Reid’s breath drew out in long, even sighs against her and she was certain that he’d finally drifted off when she felt his fingers on her side squeeze, as if he didn’t want to lose her either. She smiled to herself.

“Gotta go soon,” she whispered, fingers tightening in his hair as his tightened at her side.

“Too bad,” he breathed in deeply. “Just figured out how to do this.”

She wondered what exactly he had figured out about it, and then decided that she shouldn’t guess. Not considering his bizarre, intuitive leaps. “Well, the hammock isn’t going anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?” He shifted so that he could look up at her, though the deepening darkness obscured any details. “You mean I don’t have to act like an irritable toddler to do this again?”

“No.” She stuttered as she said it, not having thought about her answer, but then she told herself to chill out. There was nothing weird about two friends finding a little calm together, and it was… nice. “And since the AC is already in pieces, maybe we could skip that part next time.”

“Sure. Your compromise is very reasonable, all things considered.” 

She could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. She smiled into the dark too. Then their cell phones rang at the same time, and they both spooled up so quickly to answer them that the hammock inverted and unceremoniously dumped them onto the balcony floor. Reid took the brunt of it with Prentiss landing on top of him and his crushed psychology paper. He grunted loudly but held her in spite of probably bruising the hell out of his back and elbows.

“And the Russian judge gives us a 4.6 for our dismount…” Prentiss huffed apologetically as she leapt off him.

“You didn’t tell me that there was geometry involved in this! I wasn’t prepared… With two disparate points of shear tension, which increase exponentially when weight is placed in the center of the swing, the sudden shifting of significant weight must be offset by calculating the-” 

“We don’t have time, Archimedes. Chop, chop! Besides, the problem is gravity, not math. And you forgot about Newton’s Second Law.”

“I did no such thing,” he muttered indignantly, and just like that, his bad mood was back. 

She meant to be playful with him but her chest constricted a little as his grumbling signaled the end of their bubble of closeness. It was an anomaly, she reminded herself. They were actually like this all the time: wisecracking friends and committed colleagues. An hour of unexpected intimacy wasn’t going to remake them. But, nonetheless, it felt like she’d had a glimpse of something that she was missing out on, and that made her restless.

They collected their belongings as quickly as they could and hustled out of the hotel room. As Prentiss returned J.J.’s call and Reid locked the door behind them, she felt his other hand land absently along her side. It lingered as a warm reminder of what had existed briefly and then suddenly burst on them. She sunk into the feeling for a moment longer before she let him nudge her toward the elevator.

 

Forty hours later, with a suspect in custody and nearly dead on their feet, they stumbled back to their room. The AC was still in pieces and the room was like a sauna, so without thinking about it they both made a tired beeline for the balcony. This time Reid got in first – it seemed safer for all concerned that way – and then he silently patted his chest to ask Prentiss to join him. She settled into the crook of his arm with a sigh that breezed across his collarbones and let herself drift almost instantly. 

She may have been asleep for quite a while because when she woke, it was much darker than before. A storm was blowing in from the Gulf, lighting up the sky in the distance and bringing with it a blessedly cool wind. He shifted slightly under her and that was when she realized he wasn’t asleep either.

“Storm’s coming. Want to head inside?” he whispered.

She was too tired to even entertain the notion, not to mention that she was comfortable where she was. The balcony was covered, so… She shook her head against his chest.

“It’s windy,” he persisted. “We’ll get wet.”

“Do you really care? I feel like I’ve been swimming through the air here since the jet landed.” She looked up at him in the dark. “ ‘Sides, I’m exhausted. And I like storms.”

“Okay then,” he murmured as he tucked his free arm behind his head, settling in. “We’ll be all wrinkled and smell like ozone later, but you’re the boss here.”

She laughed as the sky lit up. He dropped a long leg to the balcony floor, rocking them gently as she had earlier. It took the storm forty-five minutes to reach them, the wind whipping the trees and silencing the birds in its path. Reid never stopped rocking. He occasionally attempted to tell her facts about high and low pressure weather systems converging, dew points and humidity, and the drifting of the North Atlantic Current, but then stopped in mid-thought and proclaimed that he was too tired to continue with it. She patted the center of his chest in consolation and began counting beats between lightning and thunder instead like she did when she was little. He appeared to be listening to her intently. When the storm finally arrived, the temperature dropped and she was glad of his warm solidness beneath her. Her arms tightened around his sides and, after a moment, he seemed to curl around her to hold her more securely. It felt like falling to her – not the terror of landing, but the freedom of moving elegantly and simply through space. The destination wasn’t important, only the feeling. 

Rain blew across them, dampening their bare feet at the far end of the hammock. It chilled her a little more so she tucked her toes beneath his calf and he stopped rocking to bring his other leg back up to cover hers. They were tangled up like noodles now and the wind took over swaying duties, blowing intermittently with damp gusts. They were two little boats adrift in the same stretch of turbulent ocean, but somehow it struck her as the same sort of peace she’d created with him two days earlier. The sky rumbled and lit up like daylight for seconds at a time, but she felt no urge to retreat. His arms circled her, bands that securely anchored her to him, and she breathed him in: sweat and rain, stale squad room air and musty file folders, old leather and gun oil. It was like the lines across her palms; as if his familiarity was something she’d always carried around with her. But that was just crazy, or maybe it was her exhaustion speaking. Either way, she couldn’t focus on the thought any longer. They let the storm rock them, coiled into one another, and despite the downpour seething just beyond their toes, they eventually fell asleep in it.

 

When she awoke again it must have been hours later because the rain had cleared and her left side was complaining about being in the same position for too long. Reid shifted underneath her, probably experiencing pins and needles to a greater extent than she was, before settling into a new position with a sigh. And then, after a moment, she felt his mouth softly brush her forehead. She remained perfectly still, eyes closed. Had he just kissed her head? She tried very hard to reconcile the feeling of being both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. She really ought to do something about this… perhaps this kind of intimacy was confusing for him…

She turned up to face him, blinking sleepily, and he stared back at her unapologetically saying nothing. The sky was lighter - dawn was on its way - but the closeness of night still hung in the air making her feel as though they were the only two humans for miles. She waited for him to react, to start babbling about _something_ as he so often did when a moment became awkward, but he didn’t do that. She watched as a cautious observance settled over his features, as if he were biding his time, waiting for more evidence to reveal itself. He was waiting on _her_ and that deference made something in her surge forward. She pushed herself up slowly, watching him as she went, until her lips barely touched his. It was more of a breath than a kiss but she retreated enough to break contact with him when he gasped at it. An apology was on her tongue as his stare got bigger, more confused. Why had she done that? She felt betrayed by her half-conscious mind and upset that she might have broken something between them. His eyes seemed huge, full of questions, and she felt herself mentally backpedaling when the wind changed. It brought his scent back to her, the sense of him that had ridiculously lulled her to sleep in the middle of a storm. But she also tasted the salt of him on her lips, and the rain left behind on his skin… and she moved again without really thinking it through. 

Her lips landed on his securely this time, gently slotting against him as if they were a matched set. After a moment’s hesitation, he met her with warmth and assurance of his own, softly moving when she did, pulling tenderly, lingering just long enough to wordlessly ask for more. An arm curled around her shoulders and pulled her closer as his hand tightened at her waist. He leaned into her mouth, getting a little more confident, and she felt his tongue skim her lower lip. She opened her eyes and saw that his were closed, long eyelashes lining those dark circles he always had, and she witnessed this sort of shocked joy on his face… She forgot to breathe. It was just… he was so familiar to her and yet this was totally and completely new. He kept nipping at her lips, and his hands were warm weights against her, and it felt as though they could do this for hours without it getting old, and what had started out as a curious impulse was now melting her from the inside out, and… Jesus Christ, _Reid_ , really?

She pulled away and their lips made this soft slipping noise that she found unbelievably hot, and she looked into his curious, confused stare with a matching one of her own. Her hand had found its way to his jaw and though her body was telling her to pull him back into her, she just lay there dumbly trying to catch her breath and her wits. That’s when she realized that she didn’t think she could speak even if she knew what to say to him. _Wow. Just… wait a sec… WOW._ The idea that she’d lost the power of speech simply because of the way Reid kissed her made her stomach flip and roll dangerously. 

“Should we stop?” he whispered, his speech center apparently still intact. The joyful expression melted from him replaced by a worried set to his eyebrows and a frown pulling at his flushed mouth.

She stared in silence because the obvious and immediate answer was ‘Yes’. She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen and struggled to find a convenient justification for why it had. They were exhausted, she had forced an unusual intimacy on him, the storm… Maybe she’d always been too comfortable with taking advantage of his personal generosity. It wasn’t fair to provoke him this way when she had no intention of following through, right?

“Yes,” she huffed as she nodded and watched his features fall. His hands lightened on her, rubbing circles of apology into her skin for misreading the moment. Her stomach twisted again and her grip on his jaw intensified drawing his stare back to hers. “For now, I mean. Yes, for now. Until we get back to D.C. Ummm… if that’s something you’re interested in.”

Now he appeared to have lost the power of speech.

“What I’m saying is that the jet leaves at seven, so… this isn’t a great time to get into this, ya know? But once we’re home…” 

He just kept looking at her as her enthusiasm flagged and she started to fill up the empty space with words that seemed to pull her away from him and that hammock and their bubble of unexpected tranquility. 

“But it’s fine if this was just one of those ‘moments’ that comes and goes without much relevance to the reality of things. Weirdness happens, you know? And we’re both a little weird so it’s surprising that nothing awkward has ever crept up on us before now. I’m cool if you’re cool… we can both be cool about this.”

“I’m not ‘cool’ about this, Emily,” Reid whispered and wrapped his hand around her wrist where she held his face. “I’m the opposite of cool - I’m sorta hot and anxious about it, actually.”

“Well, that could just be the weather,” she deflected lamely. He gave her one of his serious, interrogation stares in response.

“You know what we’re discussing here, right?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I want to kiss you again. I… I find that I want to ask you out.”

Her stomach was doing somersaults now. Where had this excitement come from all of a sudden? Where had it been living up until now that she hadn’t noticed it?

“Is that what _you meant_ when you suggested that we wait until we get back home?” Reid squeezed her wrist.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“Oh.” His seriousness gave way to shock, and then to unadulterated happiness as he gave her a grin that was all teeth and smile lines. “Well, in that case, I agree with your proposal. It’s very sensible. I’d prefer not to be constrained by the jet’s departure time either.”

She shivered in his arms because it felt like he’d just suggested that he wanted to spend hours making out with her and when was the last time a guy had actually told her that? It was sweet and hot and romantic and unbelievably earnest and _she thought that Reid wasn’t supposed to have any mojo with the ladies?_ She must have looked as confused as she felt because he leaned in, brushing her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“You okay?”

“I’m confused.”

“That’s apparent. What about?”

“When did this happen? Two days ago I was seriously considering throwing you off this balcony for busting the AC…”

“Well, the logical, conservative answer would be it occurred somewhere between Hotch introducing you to the team and us kissing just now. Coincidentally, the logical answer could simultaneously be construed as the sarcastic answer.”

“Smartass.”

He nodded toward her as she proved his point. “A more subjective answer would be: it occurred due to snoodlization.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It’s _your_ word, and manifest evidence would appear to prove that it is an actual thing. Don’t blame me for attempting to conjugate it. I don’t know of a Latin root for ‘snoodle’.”

“So, you’re saying the hammock did it?” she smirked.

He leaned in the rest of the way until their lips met again. She may have moaned a little as his fingers slid into her hair, and he pressed his luck and time by sinking into her as she did it. When he eventually pulled away he left a soft peck on her lower lip, like he was sampling it for later. She thought he was way too good at this kissing business considering how much insecurity he’d always exhibited about romantic situations. She honestly wondered if you could learn to be a great kisser from books…

“The hammock did it,” he murmured against her cheek. She was shivering again. God help her - this was probably going to get messy in a hurry.

“Well then, we’d better free ourselves from it if we’re going to make our flight home.”

She pulled herself from his grip and thought she heard him grumble a little so she placed a small kiss on his forehead before she left him, to mirror the one that started this whole adventure. His hands slipped off her and she turned to give him a push that sent him swaying gently as she headed into the room to pack her things. He tried to follow her a few minutes later but there was a loud thud and an angry ‘Dammit!’ from the balcony that told her he still hadn’t mastered the hammock exit. Though they had fallen into one another easily - inexplicably - it appeared that the mechanics of reality were still going to pose a challenge for them. But she smiled as he stumbled into the room behind her and set about packing up his own go bag because she discovered that she wasn’t intimidated by that challenge. It was a strange notion to feel so confident about something rife with pitfalls, but it suddenly felt as certain to her as the interval between lightning and thunder.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a piece of fan art for this story. [You can find it here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9092728)


End file.
